


Dreams and Visions

by ilyena_sylph



Category: Damar Series - Robin McKinley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-01
Updated: 2009-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What waits in the future for Aerin-sol, daughter of Harimad-sol and Corlath? The Meeldtar knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams and Visions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twistedchick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedchick/gifts).



> couldn't have done it without [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/katarik/profile)[**katarik**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/katarik/). Thanks, darlin'. Written for Yuletide 2008.

The ease of Luthe's hall had finally settled on her children, Harry realized with a sigh of relief as Jack -- barely a year old, just old enough for them to have made the trip -- finally went to sleep in her lap. Unlike her children, she'd been drowsy all evening to her great frustration. While the air here still didn't make her tired, the trip into Luthe's hills was always more than enough to make her want a long sleep. The trip hadn't seemed to have had the same effect on her children... until now. It did salve her pride somewhat that Corlath didn't look much better where Tor was half-draped over his chest in another of the chairs. As a matter of fact... she smirked slightly. Her husband was already asleep.

Her children's energy might have been because they'd gotten to stay on the backs of their ponies, in Tor and Aerin's cases, or in the carry-sack on her back for Jack on the way up, she mused wryly, instead of walking to spare Isfahel and Tsornin's strength like their parents had. In any case, while she and Corlath had been trying not to fall asleep at least long enough to be decent company to Luthe, their children had been tearing around like small mad creatures, sticking their noses and fingers into everything they could find in the hall. Even her little Jack had trotted after his brother and sister as much as his legs would carry him -- and had been trying to thoroughly charm Luthe by mis-pronouncing his name in very cheerful tones. Speaking of his sister... her eyes cast around, and she found Aerin's bright hair shining atop a large, heavily embroidered pillow that she had somehow dragged next to the great hearth of the hall for a perch.

Harry's head tipped back against the back of the chair, and she told herself quietly that she would get up in just a moment and get them all to bed, only a moment....

Luthe smiled slightly as her thought flickered through the air between them, and he watched as the Damarian Queen fell asleep in his hall, her King close by. After long enough to be sure that they were both asleep, he moved over and lifted the tiny red-haired girl into his arms gently. She stirred a little, sleepily, and he walked out of the hall into the torch-lit grass.

Aerin stood up from where she was scaling some of the fish he would cook in the morning and went to clean her hands in the spring, then walked over to them, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "They're asleep?" she asked quietly.

"Soundly," he nodded, and offered her the drowsy weight of the little girl. Aerin took her, settling her close as easily as she'd held any of her own children, and looked down.

"Shame they saddled you with my name, little one," she said, as softly as she'd spoken earlier, wry smile in the light of her eyes. "I thought I told my children about that..."

"Mm. Memories like that fade in time, and I would think you'd understand, this time," Luthe said in return, teasing her gently.

She laughed, her smile and her eyes still _kelar_ -bright enough to dazzle him after all of this time, and dipped her head in a quick salute. "A point. Still."

"...nn... who.. Aewin?" the small voice startled them both, and Luthe looked down to see the little blue eyes open and blinking up. The child was only three, she should have stayed asleep... It was his love that answered, still smiling down at the young girl.

"Yes," Aerin told her. "I am. And you'll do just fine with my name."

Aerin's smile widened in gap-toothed glee, and his love pressed a light kiss to her descendant's forehead -- putting her back to sleep with a bare brush of magic, Luthe noted with affectionate pride.

"How many centuries has it been since one of them woke enough to see me directly?" Aerin asked him, giving the little girl back to him.

"Several," he had to say after a moment. He didn't much care to think of the other moments in Damar's history that one of Aerin's children had had even this much knowledge that his not-quite-mortal love still walked the land as she chose, and he looked down at his armful with curious eyes. "What will you do, little one?"

"I don't know," Aerin said, shaking her head so that her red hair spilled over her shoulders, "but I think I'm going to have to keep an eye on her."

He snorted quietly, Maur's bloodstone heavy against his throat. "You keep an eye on all of them, Aerin. You love them."

"Of course I do," she nodded, and her fingers slid gently through tiny, bright curls before she turned to go back to the fish.

***

It was never difficult for Corlath to find his older daughter, as when she was not with her mother she could almost always be found with her younger brother, getting into as much trouble as an almost ten-year-old and an almost eight-year old could find in the Palace that had been built to house a much larger royal family. Once, it would have been Tor she was getting into trouble with. But Tor had been utterly seized by a vision of the priesthood on his tenth birthday, and had taken to the worship of the old gods every bit as strongly as he had taken to the lessons of kingship Corlath had tried to give him. It had been a very long time since a member of the royal house had been called as a priest, and there were moments that Corlath was unsure what he thought of his thirteen-year-old son's habit of wandering the halls with an abstract, serious look or the long, intense discussions he would have with any of the priests he could find. The priests, however, seemed to be entirely delighted with their royal acolyte. One in particular, the priest that had blessed his marriage to Harry, said often that Tor had been named truly.

He could hear his children's voices from corridors away, and he thought wryly that his daughter was rightly named, too. She seemed entirely determined to live up to the wildest tales ever sung of Aerin-sol, after all.

Harry, ruefully, tended to tell him that her daughter was entirely too much like she had been. Richard, when he was in the City, agreed eloquently with his sister's assessment -- until Kentarre smiled over at him and asked, sweetly and gently, where their Ricelle had gotten her talent for destroying her toys and clothing, then, if Aerin was very like her mother. Given the gales of laughter his wife had fallen into and his brother-in-law's rapidly coloring face, Corlath had decided it must simply run in her family – probably in the Damarian half.

He stepped into the doorway of the sheet-shrouded old bedroom, and watched as Jack chased Aerin under and through the old, heavy stone furniture, Aerin's bright blue eyes laughing as freely as she was as she dodged her brother's attempts to catch her.

He let them play a few more moments, then said calmly, "Aerin, Jack," and waited for them to stop. Jack spun first and ran to him, stretching up his arms to be picked up.

"You are getting too big for this," Corlath mock-groaned as he swung his son up into his arms and spun him around, smiling as Jack laughed. He then put his son down again, just in time for Aerin to push herself into his arms. "Hello, papa."

"Hello, Aerin. Shouldn't you both still be at your lessons?" he asked, only half-sure of the answer.

"No, papa, the tutor has already given our lessons for today," Jack told him, shaking his head with an expression Corlath had never seen on his namesake's face. Jack Dedham had never attempted to look quite that virtuous... or quite that innocent.

"And you've finished all of your work for tomorrow's lessons?" he asked, watching his son as his face fell a little.

"I have!" Aerin said brightly, "and I learned another song more than I was supposed to."

"Good," Corlath said proudly, then looked at his son, ignoring his daughter's attempt at distracting him from the question. "Your sister can show me her new song, while _you_ go and finish your lessons, Jack. Finish the work first, and you will have longer to play."

"Yes, papa," Jack sighed, and started to trot back towards his bedroom and the books waiting there.

Aerin watched her brother go, then looked up at him, her blue eyes curious and bright. "What is it, father?"

"Why do you think there is something, daughter?"

"Because if there wasn't, you wouldn't have sent Jack away. We finish our lessons with mother before we go to bed, papa. That means there has to be something."

Corlath shook his head at his daughter. "Where did you learn that?"

"Aunt Amelia!" Aerin replied with a bright smile, "and Uncle Jack."

"...of course." Corlath sighed. "Yes, there is something. Are you looking forward to your party?"

"...no." Aerin's voice was very small, and her lips were pinched tight as she answered. "I'm sorry, papa."

"Why aren't you?" Corlath dropped down onto one knee, looking at her tight, unhappy face, and reached out his arms for his daughter, pulling her against his chest gently.

"I'm afraid," she answered after long moments, her face tucked into his shoulder almost enough to muffle her voice.

"Of what?"

"What if I don't See anything? In front of everyone? Tor did, but..."

Corlath just held his daughter closer, wishing she'd had a fear that would have been easier to deal with. This one, though -- he couldn't take the risk of lying to her and just telling her that everything would be all right. While _kelar_ ran strongly enough in his family, and just as strongly in Harry's... it was also well known to be unpredictable and sporadic. And after the strength of Tor's Sight, he could understand his daughter's uncertainty. He thought about it for long moments, and said gently, "The Water of Sight does not work for everyone, Aerin, though I think it will for you. As you said, Tor Saw, and your mother and I have often."

"What if I don't? What if nothing happens?"

Corlath hugged his daughter a little closer as he thought. "You don't have to take the Meeldtar during the feast," he told her, "Tor wanted to."

"I don't?" Aerin's eyes shone with unshed tears and hope as she looked up at him. "Could I take it with just you, please, papa?"

"Your mother and I," he said after a moment to think about it. "And Jack and Mathin." The Queen's Rider and King's Rider would be more than enough witnesses to whatever Aerin might See, as Corlath -- despite his daughter's fears -- was fairly certain that she would See at least as much as he had on his first taste of the Water of Sight.

"Okay, papa," Aerin said, then looked up at him. "When?"

"Soon," Corlath told her, and kissed her furrowed brow gently. When the expression did not clear, he explained his reasons. "I don't want you to worry about it. And you would, if I told you when. Just trust me, Aerin. And trust yourself."

Aerin's face slowly cleared, and she nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Now, sing me your new song," he told her, trying to distract her from the trouble of the moment as he lifted her up onto his shoulders.

***

Late that night, Aerin curled up in her bed, trying to listen to her father and not think about what was coming. She was either going to See or she wasn't, and she wasn't going to get anywhere with worrying about it. She kept telling herself that as she rolled over and tried to get comfortable, shoving on the pillows under her head to rearrange them. 'Don't worry about it,' was still ringing in her head as she dropped off to sleep...

...and she was smaller -- very small, really, held in strong arms as she looked up into torchlight and a kind, loving face that wasn't her mother's, but smiled as gently, speaking over her head to someone else. Luthe. That was Luthe, and the red hair, the bright blue eyes meant... "Aerin?" she asked, watching upwards.

The woman holding her smiled, "Yes. You'll do fine with it, too."

It felt like the world spun around her, and the same woman was sitting on her bedroom windowsill, the panes open wide as the wind blew through her hair. "You will, you know," Aerin Fire-Hair said to her with another one of the smiles that her mother called elder-sister --

\--and a gust of wind had her sitting up in bed with a gasp, one of the panes blown open in the starting gusts of the winter rains. She slid out of the bed and went across to latch it again, peace soaking through her veins at the old dream. It was one of the first dreams she remembered having, and she'd never forgotten it. That the last few moments were new were probably just the result of her nerves, she told herself stubbornly as she climbed back up into the bed. This time, she was asleep within moments of her head touching the pillow.

***

Harry looked up as Corlath walked back into the dining room they shared with a few of their Riders, looking at the leather bag hanging from his hand with longstanding distaste. The Meeldtar always had taken her strongly, and after how intense Tor's vision had been, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to see Aerin's. Not that she was going to be anywhere else. She was learning, slowly, just how much no mother really wanted to let go of her children, and this Damarian habit of testing them at only ten years of age was currently getting under her skin. She put her irritation away to flick an amused look at her husband, then looked over at her daughter as she chattered at Mathin. Corlath had told her about Aerin's fit of worry, but the next morning her daughter had been as cheerful as ever, quick and bright and bouncing.

Her husband had apparently decided to take advantage of that state of affairs, and she watched as he moved over towards their daughter. It had been truly sneaky of him to use getting Jack off to bed as cover for getting the bag, she had to admit, and gave him points for it as he spoke. "Aerin."

Her head came around, and for just a moment Harry saw a flash of fear in her eyes before her shoulders squared stubbornly and she nodded. "Yes, papa," she said even as she reached up for the bag. He handed it to her, and her eyes went cloudy the moment she touched it, vague and barely-there for a moment before she shook her head and opened the stopper. _What did you see, Aerin?_ Harry wondered, remembering the way Sungold's flanks had shone in the leather of the bag when she had first touched it.

The leather bag touched her daughter's lips, and her mother held her breath, watching as Aerin took the sip she needed... and the bag nearly fell from her hands in the next moment. Corlath's hand snapped out and caught it without letting it spill even a drop as her daughter's hands swung up in a perfect guard, only missing the blade between them, and her eyes burned golden-bright with _kelar_ for long moments, her voice raised i--

Harry shook her head in shock as her daughter yelled in Homelander in the grip of the Meeldtar's vision. Behind her, Jack Dedham's eyes opened just as wide. Aerin knew more than enough Homelander to make her Aunt Amelia comfortable, but she never used it. Not other than with her Aunt on the rare occasions Lady Amelia came to the City, at least. "--ove, move! Get back!" her voice was lower, deeper, more... "adult", she realized as she listened to Aerin. "No, _left!_ " she cried, her voice still in that deeper pitch, and still in Homelander.

The golden-bright fire began to die out of her eyes and she wobbled, on her feet. Harry flung herself out of her chair, then, and reached out to catch her daughter up against her chest. Aerin didn't fight her, sagging back against her chest. "Fighting," her little girl said quietly. "Somewhere strange. ....Had to... had to protect... Gonturan, she --"

Aerin ran out of either breath or energy, probably both, and her eyelids fluttered closed in her mother's arms, leaving Harry to look up at her husband with darkened eyes. Gonturan was a good ally, she knew full well, one that had saved her life more than a few times, and faithful in her fashion -- she was also dangerous, and Harry had hoped that her daughters would never need to carry her. That hope was gone now, in a flash of foresight given to her firstborn daughter far too young.

What had they not done, that her daughter was going to find herself living up to her name in truth?

There were worse things, Harry told herself after a moment, looking down at bright curls. Aerin-sol had been there to help her when _she_ needed the aid and reassurance. In one form or another, she had always appeared when badly needed, since the days she had ruled Damar with her husband. Whatever it was she and Corlath had failed to finish, at least her little Aerin would not be on her own in the fight.  



End file.
